


Wicked Elixir

by Bunnywith



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Black Romance, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-05-14
Updated: 2012-05-14
Packaged: 2017-11-05 09:03:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 424
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/404639
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bunnywith/pseuds/Bunnywith
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The Summoner wakes up in pain and tries to remember what happened last night.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Wicked Elixir

What the _fuck_ was that pain in his nook? Wait, maybe it wasn’t his nook, maybe it was a little higher, like his stomach. Maybe he ate something bad and now it was coming back to haunt him-oh, wait, no, it was definitely his nook.

The Summoner sat up, his teeth grit to deal with the dull ache between his legs, groaning as his nook burned with every slight movement. There was no mistaking the origin of the pain now. Besides his nook, his head hurt like never before, and his eyes joined the fun when he tried to look around and see where he was. Bright light wasn’t agreeing with him now, and he quickly shut his eyes, welcoming beautiful darkness.  
Now… What had happened? He thought back to yesterday, retrieving fragments of memory. He recalled his march into the Grand Highblood’s halls, his request to meet the highest of the Subjugglators, the ritual-

His eyes flew open then shut again because light still burned.

The ritual! He hadn’t wanted to participate, but he hadn’t wanted to offend the Grand Highblood – he was insane, after all, and the Summoner had figured keeping on his good side would be in everyone’s best interests.

The ritual had involved drinking something the Grand Highblood called ‘the wicked elixir’, and seconds after he’d downed it, he remembered feeling sick to his stomach. But what had happened afterward…

He heard a small _honk_.

The Summoner looked around, painful light be damned, and saw that he was sitting cross legged on top of the slumbering Grand Highblood.  
“What the…” Out of the corner of his eye he caught sight of a dark, chocolately mark on his wrist and looked closer. It appeared to be a bruise. Squinting at it, the Summoner could recall the briefest of flashes of being held down, of blood dripping onto his face, of hurried movements, sweat, curses and declarations of deep, black hatred, and of _pain_. The pain of the Grand Highblood’s bulge squirming past his seed flap, the Summoner’s body betraying him by lubricating his nook and squeezing around the thick bulge inside him, making him feel pleasure tinged with a hate that made him dig his claws down deep and tear into the Grand Highblood’s skin until indigo flowed.

Examining his claws, he saw indigo blood dried underneath them. The Summoner looked himself over and found bruises and claw marks, but the most disconcerting of all was a messy scrawl across his chest, indigo blood used for the ink.

_‘Property of GHB’_


End file.
